


Safe House

by Impalababycakes



Series: Wincest Mini Fics [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Dean, But also Implied Werewolf Sam, Handcuffs, Hunter Dean, M/M, Monster Sam, Pain Kink, Poor helpless little Dean, Restraints, Top Sam, Wincest - Freeform, dark themes, fear kink, gif fic, undertones of bestiality talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:21:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21858991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impalababycakes/pseuds/Impalababycakes
Summary: Dean gets clumsy on a hunt and is captured by a monster.Not by just any monster, not one that loves the thrill of the kill, no, this monster is hungry for skin on skin, to be buried in tight flesh, he'll make the hunter beg for more than just his life.Dean awaits his demise, strung up in a safe house, the monster left him there for hours but any second he'll return. Guess it's not such a safe house anymore.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Series: Wincest Mini Fics [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1549594
Comments: 3
Kudos: 88





	Safe House

Whose brilliant fucking idea was it to make a safe house in the middle of a forest surrounded by trees and not a street light for miles? Bobby's.   
  


Unless by chance there's some hikers around, the hunter's screams could barely cut through the lumber walls. Instead, his lungs were left sore, dry, and _burning_. 

He wheezed, as if he just inhaled smoke, and chewed on his bottom lip to keep the air in his lungs for a few extra seconds, then exhaled sharply. 

Dean tilted his head back, the shine of the silver handcuffs reflected off the black center of his eyes. The pull light was like looking directly into the sun, and when he looked away, he was seeing spots. 

"Ugh..." Dean swallowed before he almost choked on his own nerves, then shook his head, making himself dizzy. 

"I gotta get outta here..." Dean whispered to nobody but himself, his throat was sore, so sore that when he flicked his tongue to feel it, a tear duct activates. 

Dean dropped his head and tried relaxing every muscle, except his heart that was already steadily pacing in his chest. Given the situation, Dean found the calmness unsettling. 

Dean pulled down on the handcuffs, but all it did was make him slide across the long steel bar, his hips swayed in a circle like he was trying to keep the ring of a hula-hoop from falling to the floor. 

His chest was bare and looked to be wounded, neck and collarbone covered in scratch marks. Maybe they were from the monster or caused by a sharp and jagged object like nails or teeth to a key digging into his skin. 

A few dried spots of red to top it all off, but his face remained untouched. 

If Dean didn't know better, he'd think the monster wanted him to stay pretty for when he carves out his heart. Yet, even with the muscle caged around fingers, it would still be a steady beat for the beast to feel. 

But the fear before it's crushed in a fist, he'll see that on Dean, he'll see every line and vain surface in his face as he screams for his life. Sadistic fuck. 

The thought that this monster could find pleasure in Dean's suffering, forced him to deadpan. Evil never prevails, except, when it does. 

The hunter swayed, side to side, chain scraping across metal with nowhere else to go. 

...

It wasn't a warm summer, and Dean's bones began to chill as the night drags out, temperature dropping. 

Dean's teeth started to chatter, his lips were dried and cracked, he panted for water but all he got was his salivary glands. He pushed on the back of his teeth with his tongue to collect the saliva. 

That was not water, couldn't clench his thirst like a beer or a cold glass of H2O-OH-YES, He was parched and cranky. 

And on top of that, the house was empty, and cold, there was no other body but his to keep it warm. It did no good. 

All the blood-flow to his arms had dropped below the socket and they felt like jelly, what little left he could feel of them. 

He had to look up every so often to remind himself the suckers were still attached and ready to punch a bitch given the chance. 

Dean Winchester never goes down without a fight... 

Dean's eyes scanned the room for anything he could use as leverage, a sturdy chair he could stand on, a loose nail in the wooden floorboards he could use to pick the lock or maybe even get really lucky and find a hammer in reach. 

But instead, there was...a wooden chair that the termites made their dinner, no board in the floor was loose so there was no nail, and replaced with what could have been the convenience of a hammer—two beer bottles. 

The bourbon logo taunted the hunter, a hunk of glass can't laugh, can't make fun of him, but he hears something laughing at how pathetic, helpless, and alone he looked. 

He knew he was alone, he knew he must have looked helpless and pathetic. It's better than having to deal with that monsters 'ugly mug'.

... 

Then he heard the rumbling of an engine that couldn't be mistaken as any other car, It was his 67 chevy. 

He listened to her loud purr as she pulled up into the driveway. 

Dean could detach himself and close his eyes, imagine himself insider her, foot pressed into the gas pedal, twisting the key to light her up. But it was not him, some other man—some other monster in his spot, another dirty ass on her seat, stroking her wheel, rubbing the dashboard, treating her so good... 

Dean felt betrayed to think any other man could make her purr like that behind the wheel. 

Then he felt the burning of the silver cuffs against his wrists and the burning in his cheeks. He'll kill him. He'll kill him. 

But just as Dean was about to charge at the door, the cuffs reminded him his wrists would snap. 

Then... The purring stops... 

Footsteps, footsteps sounded, wooden boards creaked which belong to the stairs that lead up to the front porch. 

Then the key slid into the door, it unlocked and the doorknob twisted open. He was afraid of what's behind, the dark looming figure that laughs in the doorway. 

He was afraid, his heartbeat still steady, but he was afraid, vibrating with tension. 

The dark figure stepped into the house and dropped a set of paper bags on the table, not even causing the glass vase to tip so they must have not been very heavy, a few cheeseburgers weren't heavy. 

But when those bags dropped, to Dean, the whole house rumbled, or maybe that was his bones... 

Then the keys were thrown on the table, barely making a sound, a small clatter. 

To Dean, it was a ringing in his head. He jerked away from the sound, thinking he could escape his own mind. He couldn't. 

"You're still here." The voice said, a sense of relief in its tone. "'Miss me?" And then a question. 

Dean pretended not to hear it, not to hear him. He knew the tricks, small talk allows the monster to get into his head, he wasn't about to let that happen. 

"Oh, don't pout." 

...More footsteps and the shadow was moving closer until he finally came into the light. Dean wouldn't look at him. 

Dean shut his eyes, he knew he was right there, only breathing distance away, he could feel his hot breath on his neck and the beast growling in his ear like his tongue got caught in his throat. 

He felt eyes on his body, mentally undressing him, a glare so sharp it was carving into him like a knife. 

"Look at me." Ordered the monster, jaw clenched.   
  


"I said, _look at me_." He repeated. 

At first, Dean fought it, the burning light that swayed above him made it easier to turn away. 

But then, it just wasn't enough. 

  


Dean turned, he stared back at the monster, and if looks could kill, Dean's heart would have stopped, his body would be limp, hanging from a metal bar. If looks could kill—Dean would be dead. 

Those glowing eyes were burned into his memory, they watched his every move, they loved the tremble of the hunter's lips. 

Dean was afraid but, not afraid to scream, yet he couldn't make a sound, just wheeze, and a faint whimper slipped, but no words, his eyes shot open, he stepped back, wincing at the splinters in his heels. 

The monster reached out for Dean, not for a hug, it wasn't anything welcoming as it was a forceful tug. 

Dean felt fingers dig into his ribs and as the terror sets in, there's also a weird sensation that comes with it, the kind of literal knee jerk reaction, like a reflex. 

"Tsk—" Dean drops his head, he's supposed to be scared, pissing himself if _anything_...not... _giggling_. "N—...Not there..." He choked back the sounds. 

The monster didn't listen, instead, he dug his fingertips _deeper_ into Dean's ribcage, until it became like handles to push and pull.

Dean screamed, loud, and now the monster has his full undivided attention. 

The monster's hunger was evident in his growls, and he's almost drooling, Dean was close enough to see it practically pooling over his bottom lip. 

"'Was hoping someone would come looking for you, I thought Dean Winchester would have known better than to come alone. I had a little ambush waiting for them, now it goes to waste." The monster growled again. 

"Guess I'm just _that_ popular," Dean replied sarcastically. 

The monster smiled, more of a grin really, and he finally let go of Dean, allowing his body to sway again. 

Only for a second, until he's up in Dean's ‘business’, like their shoulders are magnetic, he's no longer touching Dean, just breathing hotly into his neck, whispering incoherently. 

All Dean could make out was: "Mmm, It's just you and me."... 

He said it like they were both at a party and everyone went home, only leaving them alone in an empty house that wasn't theirs, but nobody else claimed the place for the night. And that makes it _theirs_.  
And that _remark_ makes every hair on Dean's arm stand and his dick perk up. What the hell?

Focus on anything else, go to a better place, Dean couldn't focus on anything but the... smell. 

Dean could smell him, it's not a bad smell, a nice one, sweet and something he can almost taste, every hotel shampoo in existence all dumped into one bottle. 

But the air smelled musty and moldy, a clear indicator that this house had been long since abandoned. 

  
And ever since the monster got close, he could smell Dean too, his skin smelt of fear, and something else... definitely something else...With blood present on Dean’s chest it should have reeked... but it didn’t. 

Dean jerked away from the lips that pressed into his neck, but fingers wrap around the other side and pull him back. 

Dean didn't want to think about this monster's lips on his neck, there was no pain, but he wanted to be anywhere but there being violated against his own will, that's all Dean had was his choice and now trussed up, he didn't even have that. 

Still, he squirmed and fought it, he held onto what little bit of sanity he had for as long as he could. 

"You're just a squirming mound of flesh to me, continue to struggle, I'll lick the fear off your bones." 

Dean held his breath and froze. 

"It tastes delicious." The monster finished. 

He's going to be eaten alive, the monster was going to devour him, with a face like that... the resemblance of a human, teeth of predator tearing into his skin. 

"Forget how to breathe, hunter?" The monster hummed, voice softening, oddly, before he was growling. "Here, let me remind you." 

The monster ran his tongue up a popping vain and dug his teeth into Dean's neck and that caused him to gasp for air, _that_ hurt, and Dean kicked and yelled. 

Then Dean had a voice again, it still faltered and cracked under the tension, but... 

"Let me go!" He pleaded, betraying himself. He told himself he wouldn't beg, not to give the monster any satisfaction, but it was either that or get his throat ripped out. 

Then the monster eased up. 

Dean's arms went limp, along with his shoulders when he felt the warm blood drip down to his collarbone, yet, he relaxed. 

The monster steps back and wipes the blood off his chin with his sleeve, it was very little and left a small red stain that would take some soap to rub off, but not right now... 

Right now he didn't care. 

The monster's fingers curled into Dean's waistband, his thumbs rustled with the hunter's belt buckle until it's undone and he pulls the leather off, slapping it on the floor. 

Dean's heart leaped in his throat and his eyes snapped shut when he heard the sound. 

Dean kept his eyes sewn shut, he felt hands on him, they dug into his pants, and a foot kicking the denim down to his ankles, he felt the breeze on his legs. 

"J-Just let it be... Be fast..." Dean whispered. "Please..." 

"No, 'think I'll take my time." The monster rebelled. 

Dean felt those same hands curl around his cock and it jumped against the palm, leaking already.

"D-Didn't your mom ever tell you not to play with your food?" How Dean could be cocky at a time like this was shocking in itself. 

"Tastes better when you're scared. Your bones jittering beneath your skin, unsteady breathing, the little sounds you make." The beast's voice was deep and gravelly, resonating in Dean's bones. 

Dean clenched his fist, he swallowed thickly, and gathered up enough courage to speak again. "T-That's what I am? Your wind up toy?" 

"I'm already making your head spin, that's enough, can't really twirl for me, don't want you to." 

"Argh, fuck you, _Let me go!_ " Dean bared his teeth, snarling. 

The monster rolled his eyes, It's like Dean forgot who the _real_ monster was supposed to be. 

He shucked off his shoes, and worked on the buttons to his shirt, no longer making eye contact with the snarling hunter. 

"If it's fear you want, I won't give it to you." 

"Of course you will, you already have. As I undo each button, I can hear your heart pulsating, feel your blood running cold, hear your teeth chattering." 

Dean clenched his jaw to make himself stop, not realizing until the other mentioned it that his teeth were chattering at all. 

Then... 

The other's pants dropped to the floor, he steps out of the holes and walks circles around Dean, until he stopped behind him. 

"F-Fine, you want fear? I'll— I'm scared, hell, I'm terrified! I have no control, 'that what you want to hear? You can do whatever you want and nobody could hear me, nobody could stop you. I'm fucking screwed." 

"Mmm, That's better." The monster hummed, pleased. "I got a reputation to keep, being a big bad monster and all." 

After that, the monster wasted no time in grinding against Dean, slipping dangerously close. 

The rough grinding caused a whine to bubble out of Dean's throat. "Look, look, look," It's a threat, now it's no longer fear he felt so strongly, but threatened, fear and terror were sidelined. "I'll do... anything to have you _not_ do this." 

Dean heard a familiar snap from behind him and he pants, rapidly pants against nothing, he was in full panic mode. 

The monster wraps his hands around his own cock and twists it slick until it's dripping onto the wooden floor. 

"Part your thighs." 

The beast's voice now drips down the scale, it's dirty, like Dean just signed up for unlimited minutes of phone sex. That's all it was, a voice, his head couldn't turn to put a face to it anymore. 

"Part your thighs." The voice echoed. 

"No." Dean protested. 

A pair of hands slid between Dean's thighs, but he used every ounce of strength left in him to keep them shut, the struggle resembling a jammed elevator door. 

"Don't try to fight it, Dean." The monster warned, his voice foreboding what's to come if Dean refuses to comply. 

Dean continued to fight it until the hands slid so far between his thighs, fingers dug into the other side for a firm grip and pried them open. 

Dean whimpered and whined before feeling something hot press against his thigh. ' _No, not that, please anything but that_.' Was probably what Dean's was thinking.

As much as Dean's eyes screamed of terror, his cock bobbed in anticipation and Dean should have hated his body for reacting differently like his sanity was in the winning middle of a tug of war. 

A war between his thoughts and his flesh, begging for it, not so much for it to stop. 

"Face it, no one will save you, you're all alone." The voice taunted. “You’re all mine.” 

Dean drops his head, tensing up, fighting it one last time, but it wasn't enough... 

Dean lurched forward, feeling the head of this monster's cock pierce through. There's a string of nerves that twisted up his spine as he let out the smallest cry. 

Tears threatened the corner of his eyes, almost flooding over his blond lashes, another bubble surfaced his throat. 

"Fuck..." 

The beast settles his _monster_ cock inside of him, sliding it all the way in, until Dean's head jerked back, shoulder cracked and strained. 

Just when Dean thought that was all, it kept burying itself deep inside until Dean felt himself bottom out. "Fuck..." he repeated, then tilted back again, so his head would soak up the tears.

Dean's face was a perfect mixture of fear, shame, and arousal when the monster started to buck his hips into him, his eyes soon rolled back and shut. 

"All you humans are good for are eating and fucking, how's it feel to no longer be at the top of the food chain?" 

The monster lifted him a little to get a better view and slid his thumb inside, pumping it in, stretching the hunter more. 

"Ah.. Ah hah..." Dean pants, "No more... Please..." 

The monster slid his thumb out, then gave a good slap to Dean's asscheek and takes his hip, thrusting up. 

"Ah!" The chains rattled, the metal bar vibrated, Dean's whimpering and cries echoed throughout the house. "Please!" Dean rambled, incoherently... 

"What was that?" The monster questioned, not letting up for a second. "Say it again." 

"Y-You're huge..." the hunter admits, shamefully and a hint of annoyance. "You’re fucking huge..." 

"Mm, good, but that's too bad, guess you'll have to take what I give you." 

One thrust, one protest from Dean: "No!" 

A second, Dean protested again. "Get the fuck out of me!" 

A third, Dean became more aggravated, more aggressive. "I'll fuckin kill you, you son of a bitch. 'Fucking kill y—Argh!" Dean jerked.

The monster smiled when he pulled apart Dean's cheeks to see how the body hugged his cock, how Dean hugged his cock so invitingly. 

The fit was tight, nice and snug, to the monsters Dean was a body, just a body, not a person, not a soul, a fucking body good for two things. 

Dean whimpered, head falling towards the floor, and he tried to wiggle out of the two hands that held on firmly to his hips but the grip was impossible to break. 

It's like the beast held onto Dean's body like a life, yet he tried convincing the hunter his life was meaningless and effortless. 

Dean went limp against the chains, loosened up and let the thick invasion jab it's way in and out of him, riling up his stomach, or that's the hunger. 

Dean's cock twitched and leaked eagerly for a touch, but didn't receive a palm. 

Instead, the monster thrusts in using every bit of strength to make the hunter's body bounce, then slide back down on his cock. 

Dean felt the exhaustion settling in as he pounded away into him, his body already felt like jelly and his voice strained with every use, every protest, he played his part as the helpless hunter convincingly... 

Until... 

The 'monstrous' cock brushes against his sweet spot, where Dean let out a blissful sigh, followed by an "Ahhh~" 

Dean swayed his hips, hoping the monster will hit it again, make it go crazy, make him break himself, and sure enough that monster did. 

"Yes... mmm~" Dean purred. 

The monster's thighs continued to slap into Dean's, flesh grinding into flesh, finding that spot for a third time and every bone in Dean's body vibrates, a heat building in his stomach as that cock punches out a final cry...

"Sammy!" Dean whined. 

Sam froze, the thrusting stopped, just long enough for Sam to swat the back of Dean's head. 

That wack received a pained "Ow!" from the older brother, as he tried looking over his shoulder. "What was that for?!" 

"For breaking character," Sam grumbled, letting go of Dean's hips and cracks his fingers. 

"I did not!" Dean shouted. 

"You said my name." 

"W—" Dean realized he did, It's always coming out as such a natural response, he forgot it left his lips. "Well I— That's—" 

“Uh-huh?" Sam urged. 

"Saying your name is like a fucking reflex, I can't control that." Dean admitted. 

"No, you ruined everything." Sam exaggerates, dramatically pulling out and taking back possession of his cock that Dean's body was convinced it owned by now.   
  


“What? I did not!” Dean hissed. 

“Did.” Sam tapped his brother’s ribs, then his fingers crept up to his neck, he bared his teeth and nails and jabbed them into Dean’s chest. “Always do.”

“Fuck! Ow!” Dean whined.   
  
  


Sam wasn’t finished and proceeded to drag his nails down Dean’s skin, they catch at every curve and every spot his ‘claws’ visit leaves rosey scratch marks, in a few spots blood beaded out of the flushed colored fresh.

Dean yells. “Arghhhh!” And jerks his hips forward, almost pulling something. 

  
  
“So...Since you ruined everything, I gotta ask. Are you bleeding? What’s on your chest?” Sam took his hands off and walked around to the front of Dean, blowing air into his face, cooling him off a bit from how heated they got together.   
  
  
“Oh— I—heh—disemboweled that cherry pie earlier.” Dean shamelessly admits. He really liked to get into character, he wanted to look hurt and beat up, like he’s been mauled by the big, bad, wolf.

“So that’s cherry pie? No wonder you smell so good.” Sam concludes after Dean’s confession, dipped his fingers into the red on Dean’s collarbone and leaned in for a taste.

“No, I smell _good_ ‘cus you’re a blood thirsty werewolf and I’m a tasty meal for your convenience.” Dean reminded Sam of his role, just incase he forgot. 

“Sure are, want to eat you up, little hunter.” Sam smirks into Dean’s neck, nipping and nibbling up until he reaches his jaw and gives it a bite. 

  
  


“Fuck... Someone will come for me. Gonna put your ass down, dog boy, hope you like silver bullets.” Dean playfully provokes. 

  
  


“Don’t matter, I’ll have bred your ass already, fuckin ate you down to the bone.” Sam growled. “Fuck you...and suck your skin off, tear into those pretty freckles, make you scream for more.”

Was Dean breathing? Probably not. Sam could really play a convincing role, Dean guessed being in all those silly kid school plays helped with Sam’s bedroom acting too. 

“Oh, _please, no_.” Dean let out, to the room it sounded like a beg in protest, but for Dean it was something entirely different. He hummed, twisting his wrists around the cuffs.   
  


Sam reached down for the keys and walked back over to Dean, unlatching the cuffs as they clicked open. 

Dean’s arms were asleep, he couldn’t move them even a little, his eyes slowly closed in a worn state of mind and so he pretended to fall to his knees, but he didn’t hear the jarring sound of them hitting the floor because two arms swooped in to catch him.   
  


“You’re my little hunter, sweet, battered, bruised, and beautiful.” Sam softly praised. “You’ll never escape me.”   
  
  


Sam clawed his fingers into Dean’s bottom lip, and forced him to look up by knocking his chin. 

“Oh...”

Dean looked down and slowly opened up his fist to reveal a silver shaved bullet. ”What’s this~?” 

“ _Oh NO_!” Sam gasped.   
  


“Light’s out, doggy.” Dean chuckled, and rammed the bullet into the ‘werewolf’s’ chest. 

Sam clutched his bare chest, pretending it struck his heart and collapsed on the floor, playing dead on the ground.  
  


“Sam... You good?” Dean asked as he stood up, tilting his head, gazing down at the motionless body.  
  


Sam gave Dean a thumbs up for assurance, and Dean took that as his cue to go get washed up in the bath, but as he was walking he felt something latch onto his ankle.  
  
  


”Oh...” Dean looked down. “Wait...” He paused

The hand pulled on his ankle and caused him to trip, his back landing on the wooden floor and in the fall he ended up loosening a board. Dean groaned. “Arghh... You’re supposed to be _DEAD, Man!.”_

Whiskey colored eyes gazed down at him, and with a rebellious smile he took ahold of Dean’s ankle and dragged him across the wood, aiming for the bedroom. 

“Sam! Hey! Wait! Hold on! Wait! _UNHAND ME YOU BEAST!”_ Dean faked a panic.

“You’re a horrible shot, wasn’t even near my heart, Dumbass.” Sam snorted. “Realistically I wouldn’t be dead.” Sam clicked his tongue, waving a finger in correction. 

“You know what, Sam? _Bite me!”_ Dean snapped, kicking and squirming as his hips slide across the wood.

” _Will_ bite you.” Sam glanced over his shoulder and gave Dean a flirtatious wink of the eye. 

Dean laughed, puffing up his chest and rolling on his stomach, pretending to fight the hand that holds him, dragging his fingers into the wood and receiving some splinters. He’s ready to play. “Oh... hohoho Oh NO! OH NO! HELP!” Dean took a breath, before repeating: “HELP!”

  
...

The ‘monster’ drags him into the room, his ribs sliding across the floor until they meet the doorframe and the monster slams it shut.

All that can be heard passed that door is rustling and a flomp on the mattress, giggling erupts out the brothers throats as they silence each other with a few subtle kisses to the lips, neck, and shoulders.

...

Then (not long after) came the screams, blood chilling screams spouted from behind a wooden door, the older brother cried out like he wanted the world to hear them, because the ‘Beast’ got rough and hard on his body, digging and crushing his ribs as the monster laid on top of him, thrusts driving into his back.

So...Whose brilliant fucking idea was it again to make a safe house in the middle of a forest surrounded by trees and not a street light for miles? That's right, Bobby's.   
  


A special place for the Winchester brothers to crash and play out whatever fantasy their hearts desire.   
  


It's just the two of them, this safe house is theirs, no _real_ monsters could get in. The place was quiet and it felt like it was centered in the middle of nowhere, so no-one could hear him scream, no one except his little brother, just the way Dean liked it.

**Author's Note:**

> To explain the story further, the whole point of Dean having a silver bullet in his clenched fist was part of the game,  
> Sam would hide a piece of (whatever could potentially kill the monster of their choosing) Go out for food and give Dean time to find it.
> 
> Sometimes he would find it and sometimes he wouldn’t, but finding it was part of wining the game.  
> (Because sex roleplay isn’t just about sex to them, they like to make it fun and challenging) and he could choose when to bring the item to their attention (usually when tired or wanting their little tiff to end)  
> But Sam was a rebel sometimes. Rawr. 
> 
> (I really enjoyed writing this piece, it’s a personal fave I gotta say, I hope you guys enjoy it!)  
> Ps: When Dean gets scared horny he turns into Santa, Merry Christmas 😂


End file.
